Is it possible to make a cleaning device for your enemy? I’m not talking about loathing robot vacuum cleaners or an air conditioner you can control from your phone. No, I’m here to get on my high horse, her royal pettiness, about the absurdity of a rain shower head. Nothing in the world will guarantee my bad mood more than the impractical, anxiety-inducing, irritating experience of a “rain” shower. For some reason, hotels all over the world have taken this Pinterest board idea too far, and I’m here on six legs (mine and my high horse’s) to stand up to this abomination against women and the rest of humanity.
Why would I, as a black woman, ever want to stand directly under a relentless stream of water? I paid too much to look like this. While it may seem chic and soothing, I have never experienced a more stress-inducing experience than five minutes with a rain shower head. And I’m not alone. . .
Several TikToks provides a host of complaints women have about rain shower heads: they make it nearly impossible to shower without them drowns the hairand they evoke a feeling of being waterboarded or drowned. The people sing, singing angry (women) song. There is a life about to begin when tomorrow comes, and ideally it is one new shower head.
Below are some questions I have for anyone who likes a downpour (if they really exist).
1: Are you made of chewing gum?
Rain showers require a level of flexibility that you can only achieve if one (or both) of your parents are part of Laffy Taffy. Rinsing your — ahem — undercarriageyou are forced to either attempt a standing split or some demented variation of a herkie through the water to ensure you are completely rinsed. I have literally crawled backwards into a stream from a downpour to ensure I was properly rinsed. And bless your heart if you need to shave somewhere between your stomach and the thighs. A simple grooming session can require acrobatics akin to Cirque du Soleil or the meanest hot yoga class ever.
I guess there’s an upside: You don’t have to go to the gym because between running around to avoid the creek and Elasta-Girling yourself during a downpour, you have a simultaneous workout and shower.
2: Do you have hair?
When I shower, I often have a shower cap on top of the bonnet and a scarf as an extra layer of protection. Even that combination is not enough save my edges from the sickening blast of a downpour. But what really wears on my gears is how this water hazard is still too weak for rinse my thick hair unless it is in small sections. Yet it is powerful enough to break through the Fort Knox I create to protect my hair from its relentless attack. I’m no scientist, but I fear this is a conspiracy.
I’m about to start a Change.org petition to ban them from public consumption. Can a device be sued for breach of purification? Before considering your rain shower, think: Do I need new enemies? In the meantime, I’ll stick with my privilege and the Jolie shower head until we find a solution. The masses, they beg.
Amanda Mitchell is a writer and podcaster with bylines on PS, Marie Claire, Oprah Daily, Allure, Byrdie, StyleCaster, Bon Appétit and more. Formerly a senior beauty writer and story creator at Refinery29, her work sits at the cusp of beauty, pop culture, and absurdity.
